


do you feel it?

by treebreaks (bluedreaming)



Category: UNIQ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4898836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedreaming/pseuds/treebreaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the person you want to notice you has been wanting the same thing from you all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do you feel it?

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from [No Way](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WkWpx6bi0a8) by the Naked and Famous. no I have not seen the music video

". . .home soon."

Sungjoo perked up his ears at the sound of the telephone conversation drifting in from the other room, waiting for the click of the receiver hitting the base before he slips around the corner.

"Oh Sungjoo!" his mom said, waving with a stray oven mitt. "Yibo's mom called just now—he's just finished his last exam and coming home from university on Friday!" She winked at him and Sungjoo groaned. He did not have a crush on the freshman, he really didn't, even if he'd been trailing after the younger one for years ever since they collided on the sidewalk, Yibo decimating Sungjoo's bicycle with his tricycle and glaring at him from under perfect eyebrows. Sungjoo had been entranced.

"That's nice," Sungjoo said off-handedly, walking over the cookie jar, but his mom was too quick, blocking the way.

"No cookies before dinner or you'll spoil your appetite." She frowned at him and shooed him back to the living room, "unless you want to help with dishes?" Sungjoo quickly shook his head, protests of "I'm in first year grad school and I'm not a baby!" dying quickly on his tongue. His mom's house, his mom's rules, even if he did have his own apartment and car in the city. Back at home for the summer it was like he was in high school all over again. _High school crush and all._

 

 

 

Of course his mom didn't see fit to inform him that she was inviting Yibo over for supper, so Sungjoo came out of his room where he'd been buried—sifting through online journals while _actually_ watching YouTube videos—in only baggy sweats and an old T-shirt that actually had an unravelling hem and one or two holes.

"What's for supper Mo—" He'd had his eyes half-closed, mid-way through cracking his neck, when his eyes had locked gazes with—

"oh I think I forgot to backup my bibliography folder before coming down," and he'd darted back up the steps, chest heaving, flopped down on his bed as he surveyed the damage. In the split second of looking up he hadn't noticed anything about what Yibo had been wearing at all, just his oddly expectant expression. _No time to think about that right now._

After shimmying into a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt that said _THIS IS NOT A MOSCHINO T-SHIRT_ because he didn't want it to seem like he was trying too hard, looking consideringly at the hair pomade on the desk before deciding to sacrifice one part of his pride for the other, Sungoo slowly made his way down the stairs again. He hadn't seen Yibo since. . .well since Christmas break, and that had only been in passing because his confounded parents _had_ to drag everyone away on a Thailand holiday and he had only barely been able to say hi to his precious—Sungjoo quickly reversed the thought—the slightly annoying but cute next door neighbour. _What if he doesn't like me anymore?_

Sungjoo was nervously chewing on his bottom lip as he rounded the corner to the dining room and tried to quietly sip into his chair without catching his mother's attention, but no luck.

"I was just wondering where you were," she said, ladling out soup into bows from the tureen in the middle of the table. "Why did you change your clothes?" She winked at him and Sungjoo seriously considered going back to his apartment and taking that summer internship after all.

And then he actually, properly, looked at Yibo and his jaw unhinged and dropped onto the table. Yibo had dyed his hair blond.

"You dyed your hair. . ." Sungjoo heard the words slipping out of his mouth and snapped his jaw shut but it was too late; he'd already made a fool of himself. Yibo laughed.

"D'you like it?" he asked, grinning. Sungjoo swallowed.

"It looks really. . .cool," he said, and tried not to fall over because he'd never thought Yibo could look this good. Like, Yibo always looked good, but he'd never thought. . . "You look so grown up," he said, finally, and lowered his gaze to his soup. Cream of broccoli, his least favourite.

"Really?" Yibo sounded excited, and Sungjoo's eyes flicked up. Yibo was too cute, grinning, a ray of sunlight from the window setting his hair ablaze. He wondered, not for the first time, when someone would capture his attention forever. _Maybe someone already has._

"Now you can take me along on your grown up stuff," Yibo said, sticking out his tongue across the table, and Sungjoo looked up, surprised.

"What do you mean?" he asked, forgetting to pretend to be nonchalant.

"You always go away to university and do all the cool things," Yibo said, scrunching up his face over his soup bowl, and for the first time Sungjoo realized that maybe he hadn't been the only one looking, over the years.

"I'm going to a convention on the weekend," he said, after taking another bite of soup and trying not to grimace. "Want to tag along?" Yibo's eyes lit up as he nodded, and Sungjoo couldn't help but smile, despite the taste of broccoli in his mouth.

At the head of the table, his mom smiled knowingly, but he wasn't paying attention to her anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted for [sonic shiritori](http://writetomyheart.livejournal.com/346494.html).


End file.
